


Fourteen Days

by thalia_cinder_03



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Background Relationships, Childhood Friends, Drunk Bucky Barnes, Drunk Kissing, Drunk Steve Rogers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Past Relationship(s), Roommates, Slow Build, Slow Burn, friends to strangers, friends to strangers to lovers, quarantine fic that no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-26 18:13:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30110007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalia_cinder_03/pseuds/thalia_cinder_03
Summary: Bucky and Steve were basically the closest two friends could get back in high school. Then, one night, all of that changed. They're not really friends anymore. Bucky remembers why. Steve doesn't.As everything goes into lockdown, Bucky and Steve both need to leave the city and find themselves rooming together.AKA: The stucky quarantine fic that absolutely nobody asked for
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Comments: 11
Kudos: 24





	1. Day 1 (Bucky)

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, so this whole idea came around because me and my friend were spitballing back and forth ideas for why quarantine has lasted so long and we decided it's because two characters haven't finished their dramatic slow burn yet because we're like that and I decided to write it so this is exactly what that is 
> 
> also i haven't posted anything in so long lol oops

“Are you bringing Alpine with you?” Bucky heard his Mom say through the phone as he tried to get it balanced between the side of his head and his lifted shoulder. He needed both his hands to try and get his suitcase shut. 

“Of course I am,” he responded, pulling as hard as he could on the zipper. “I’m not gonna leave her alone for two weeks.” As if she had heard her cue, Bucky saw a flash of white rush past him, and a brush of soft fur against the backs of his calves. He knew she was sort of distressed today, so he didn't try to go get her. She had always hated moving days.

Of course, it wasn't technically a moving day, since Bucky wasn’t really moving. When he had found out that his state was about to go into pandemic lockdown, he decided it would probably be best to get out of the city. Him and his parents had arranged for him to stay at the house they owned out in the suburbs for two weeks, until everything got back under control. Usually the house would be rented out to a family, but the last family had just moved out, and his parents hadn’t found anyone else interested yet. Anyway, it would be a lot easier to avoid seeing people, and he wouldn’t have to worry about getting all cooped up and claustrophobic in his apartment. At least at the house, he had more than one room, and he would have a backyard. 

“I swear you treat her like a child, Jamie,” his mom muttered under her breath. Bucky could almost see her facial expression, and he heard the exasperation in her voice. His parents weren’t really cat people. 

“She  _ is _ my child,” Bucky argued. “My entire purpose is solely making sure she’s happy. Isn't that what you and Dad say about children?”

He hears her sigh and smiles to himself. That means he won. Winning this doesn't mean much though, considering Winnifred Barnes had learned years ago that she would never win an argument with her son when it came to his cat. “Whatever. I’m just glad you have somewhere to get away to. Sarah’s been trying to get Steve to leave the city but they don’t have somewhere else for him to stay, and he won’t stay with her.”

“Huh,” Bucky muttered, shuffling his feet awkwardly. He always got uncomfortable in situations when his mom brought up Steve. He really wished she would just stop. Of course, she didn’t know it made him uncomfortable, he’d never told her, so it was entirely unreasonable for him to expect her to. To her, him and Steve were still the kids who grew up together, attached at the hip whenever possible. But still, weren’t mother’s supposed to have some sort of weird intuition about this stuff? “Why won’t he stay with her?”

“Well you know Sarah,” his mom responded, and Bucky thought he could hear the whistling of the tea kettle in the background. “She’s pretty much prone to catching these sorts of things. He doesn’t want to get her sick. You know Stevie, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he got her sick.”

Bucky sighs and picks the phone up off of his shoulder, giving up on fitting all his clothes into that one suitcase. “Yeah, I know.” 

“I just feel bad,” his mom continued, as he searched around for another bag. “I don’t want Steve getting sick either. Remember how much he got sick as a little kid?”

Bucky did remember. Sometimes he couldn't believe that the skinny little twig with untreatable asthma he was friends with as a kid had grown up with had turned into the absolute hunk of muscle that Steve was now. Puberty was honestly a magical thing sometimes. That was a big  _ sometimes _ though. He still remembers the night before his junior prom, when his face had broken out into a million tiny pimples. He had even considered not going, until his little sister had called him a loser for not wanting to go. “Mom, have you seen Steve in the past few years? I think he’ll be just fine.” 

“I know, Jamie, I know,” his Mom responded. “You know what I mean though, don’t you?”

Bucky did know what she meant. The idea of Steve sitting alone in his apartment, without even a pet to keep him company was sort of sad. Plus, he knew Steve and his girlfriend of two years, Peggy, had broken up less than five months ago. From what Bucky had seen on social media, Peggy had already moved on. In her latest Instagram post, she was kissing the cheek of some guy named Daniel. It had to sting, going from being that close with somebody, to seeing them so close with someone else, after such a short period of time. 

So maybe it was the idea of Steve being alone in his apartment after a breakup, or maybe it was the fact that while he was searching for a bag, Bucky had come across his old backpack from high school, the one Steve had picked out with him in the summer before tenth grade, but something deep inside of him, something he had been trying so hard to push down, exploded. 

“What if he stays with me?” Bucky asked. He’d like to say he wasn’t thinking when he’d said that, but he definitely was thinking. He was just thinking about the wrong stuff. 

“Oh that’d be perfect!” his mom practically squealed. Something about her excitement made Bucky think she was planning on him suggesting that, but he wasn’t sure. “I’ll call Sarah!”

Bucky forced a bit of laughter, though he was now starting to get stressed. It hadn’t really sunk in when he had suggested the idea, but he was going to have to stay with Steve for fourteen days, just the two of them, in a big empty suburban home. Just him and the man he was… oh god no… 

“Jamie?” his mom asked, pulling him out of his spiral for a second. “Are you still there?”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” he apologized. “I zoned out for a second.” 

“Oh, okay. Should I let you get back to packing?”

“Ummm… yeah, sure. I have to deal with getting Alpine into her carrier anyway, and I’m not sure you want to be on the phone to hear that.” 

“I do not,” she said harshly. “That’s why I don’t look after that little demon.”

“Don’t call her a demon,” Bucky protested. “She’s your granddaughter.”

“You know what, James-,” 

“Oh, sorry, you’re breaking up, talk to you later!” Bucky said, while blowing shushing noises into his phone. He would get an earful for it later, but for now, he had bigger things to worry about. 

  1. Finish packing his stuff
  2. Get Alpine in her carrier without dying
  3. Figure out what the fuck he’s gonna do about Steve



\----------------------

After an hour, Bucky was able to check the first two things off his list. He managed to get all his stuff into two suitcases, and Alpine was in her carrier, though she was  _ not _ happy about it. He also realized just before he was about to leave, that he should probably pack some utensils and laundry soap, considering no one else was living there, and even though his mom said they had made a grocery run, he doubted they had bought cutlery. However, he still had no clue what he was going to do about Steve. 

He locked the door to his apartment (after eating the last of the waffles in his freezer for lunch,) and headed down to his car, holding Alpine’s carrier. Once in a while, the cat would give a little whine of protest, but for the most part, she wasn’t being too awful. 

Bucky got into his car, the same one he got from his parents back in high school, placing his cat on the passenger seat. He wasn’t exactly sure if that was a safe thing to do, but he knew that if she couldn't see him, she would start crying, and then Bucky’s drive would be miserable. He linked his phone to the radio system and started his drive, just after 12:30 in the afternoon. He set one of his playlists to shuffle and tried to drown out his thoughts with the music, though no matter how high he turned up the volume, he was still spiraling. 

How could he have agreed to this? He had spent years trying to ghost this guy, and now he was just going to be shoved back into Bucky’s life again. God, that sounded so mean. He didn’t want to ghost Steve like  _ that _ . It wasn’t like Bucky didn’t like Steve. Steve was one of those people who was impossible to dislike, let alone hate enough to just cut out of your life. He would love it if everything could go back to the way it was. If he could turn back time to senior year… 

A robotic voice coming out of his radio interrupted his inner monologue. “Incoming call from: Sam Wilson,” the voice said. 

Bucky pressed the green ‘answer’ button on the screen of his radio. “Hey, Sam. What’s up?”

“You invited Steve to come stay with you?!” he asked. He sounded like he might be more exasperated with Bucky than Bucky was with himself. “For  _ two weeks _ ?”

“I know…,” Bucky said, struggling to keep his eyes focused on the road. All he wanted to do was look down at his feet. It was like every car passing him was judging him for his complete idiocy. He didn’t even bother asking Sam about how he knew, too preoccupied with his spiral. 

“Do you?” Sam asked. 

“It just slipped out,” he defended. “You should have heard my mom. She was basically asking me to. You know I can’t say no to her.”

There was a heavy sigh on the other end, one that sounded like it was an insult from being a frustrated grunt. “I just don’t want you to get heartbroken, Buck. Because I specifically remember that night in senior year-”

“Hey!” Bucky interrupted. “Can we not right now? I’m driving, Sam.”

“Sorry,” Sam muttered. “But that’s exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t even talk about it. What if Steve brings it up?”

“Steve’s not gonna bring it up,” he argued. His car hit a pothole and bounced a bit, prompting a whine from the distressed cat, who had curled up in a ball in the far corner of her carrier. Bucky wished he could just curl up in a ball and hide when he was distressed. 

“You don’t know that. I read something about how when people are trapped together for long periods of time, they just start opening up about deep stuff that they would never admit otherwise.”

“That’s just definitely not true.”

“Google it.”

“Sam,” Bucky snapped, unconsciously tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “He’s not gonna bring it up. He would have brought it up years ago if he wanted to. Plus, he was so wasted that night anyway, I doubt he even remembers.”

Bucky didn't catch the hitch in his voice during that last sentence, but Sam definitely did. He knew Bucky too well to let that one slide. 

“Hey, Buck,” Sam warned, “it’s okay, calm down. I’ll leave it. Please don’t crash your car.”

Bucky forced a laugh, but he was surprised when it became a real one. “I won’t crash. Promise.” He loosened his grip on the wheel, and attempted to shake it off. 

“Okay, good. Let’s start over. How’s it been going lately?”

Maybe it was the fact that Sam was a licensed therapist, or maybe it was the fact that he had been Bucky’s closest friend for the past few years, but he always knew exactly what to say, when to say it, and when to back off. And Bucky really appreciated him for it. Sure he gave Bucky a hard time once in a while, one of those times being thirty seconds ago, but someone needed to. Plus, he always sounded genuinely interested in Bucky’s life, which was a nice change from some people he knew. “It’s been good,” he said, slowing down as the car in front of him turned into one of the exit lanes. 

“How’s the new job?” Sam asked, and Bucky swore he could hear someone talking around in the background, which was weird, because as far as Bucky knew, Sam didn’t live with anyone. 

“It’s good. The new place doesn’t get as many regular tippers, but what can you do? Plus it’s closed now anyway.” Bucky had recently just switched jobs, if you could call it that. He had moved from bartending at the Hydra club, which was deep in the city, to bartending at an actual bar, below an office building upstate. The new place didn’t pay as much, but it was worth it to not have to deal with certain people. 

“Maybe they just need some time getting to know you,” Sam suggested. “You know how those regular guys are. Give it a few months.”

Bucky laughed a bit at the caution in Sam’s voice. “Don’t worry, Sam. I’m not going back to Hydra. Life’s not that bad yet.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop bugging you.”

“Good. Where are you, by the way?” Bucky asked, casually. 

“Umm I’m at my apartment?” Sam said, as if that should be obvious. “We are in a lockdown after all. And not all of our parents happen to have second homes in the suburbs that we can escape to.”

“Woah, okay, no need for the attack,” Bucky chuckled. “I just thought I heard someone in the background. And as far as I know, you live alone, Sammy.”

“Oh, umm, right,” Sam answered. 

“Who is it?” Bucky asked, knowing it was definitely a girl. Even with how close they were, Sam wouldn’t tell about the people he was dating until at least six months into their relationship. It was some weird rule he had, even if it had never been explicitly stated as such. 

“Oh, what’s that? You’re breaking up!” Sam said, acting surprised. Bucky heard the shushing noises he made into the phone through his speakers and rolled his eyes. “Guess I’ll hang up? Have fun, Buck!”

The call ended with a low pitched beep and Bucky shook his head. 

“See, my child,” he said to Alpine after a few seconds, despite the fact she was asleep and purring loudly. “That is what we humans like to call karma.”

\----------------------

Bucky arrived at the house about a half hour later. The house was pretty average, with a painted front and brick walls. The driveway was made of bumpy asphalt, and from looking around, he figured it had a pretty regular sized lawn. However, in comparison to his apartment, he was living in paradise. He brought Alpine’s carrier in first and let her run free in the house. She immediately went for the basement, and Bucky got the feeling he wouldn’t see her for another few days. Next, he grabbed his suitcases from the trunk and lugged them inside, leaving them by the front door. He locked his car, leaving it in the driveway, and went inside. 

He started by skimming through the mail that was sitting on the counter. There wasn’t too much, just a few flyers and a couple free newspapers. He tore out the pages with the crosswords and sudoku games, before tossing the rest. 

He then made his way upstairs, to the three bedrooms. He immediately claimed the master, leaving his suitcases at the foot of the queen sized bed. He opened one and grabbed the set of sheets he had brought, since the mattress was bare. He made the bed in under five minutes, one of the skills he was glad to have learned from his mom. He had had many roommates over the years who took solid hours to make their beds. One of the denser ones didn't realize he was trying to put the width side of the fitted sheet on the length of the bed. Sometimes he missed Clint. Maybe he should text him, see if that idiot has gotten himself killed yet. 

That thought was quickly abandoned (sorry Clint,) when Bucky remembered his parents had bought all the food that was downstairs in the kitchen. He practically raced down the stairs, despite the fact that there was no one to beat other than the cat, towards the kitchen. 

“Please, please, please,” he muttered to himself, opening every cupboard possible, as quick as humanly possible. They weren’t in any of the bottom cupboards, and after checking the middle cupboards, Bucky was starting to lose hope. He opened the last cupboard, the one at the very top, and grinned. He had found them. He grabbed the bulk sized box of fruit roll ups from the cupboard, with some difficulty. There was a sticky note stuck to the top, which he read while he worked at opening the box. 

_ Dear Jamie, _

_ Don’t eat all of these at once.  _

_ You’ll get a tummy ache.  _

_ Love,  _

_ Dad  _

Bucky pulled one of the smaller boxes out of the large box, putting the large box back in the cupboard. His parents knew him so well. He took one snack out of the smaller box, which he placed in one of the more accessible cupboards. He unwrapped the candy and unrolled it quickly, with precision and practiced skill. Sam would have doubled over with laughter if he had heard Bucky describe himself unwrapping a candy with precision and skill, but he would have a point. Bucky became somewhat of a Clint when it came to fruit roll ups.

Bucky ate a couple, before collapsing onto the couch in the living room, scrolling through Instagram. He liked a photo of his friend Natasha drinking a cup of coffee in front of a window, in a light brown sweater that matched her coffee cup. He liked a photo of his old coworker, Grant, who was sitting on the stump of a tree, that the caption indicated he cut down himself. Bucky unliked it after a few seconds. He didn’t like Grant anyway, he didn’t need to encourage the destruction of nature as well. Just as he was about to scroll further down, there was a knock at the door. 

_ Shit.  _

Bucky had gotten so distracted by Sam, and then the bed, and then the fruit roll ups, and then his Instagram, that he had completely forgotten about number three on his list, figuring out what the fuck he’s gonna do about Steve. 

There was another series of knocks on the door as Bucky stood frozen in place. He shook his head a few times, trying to shake off his nerves, which really never worked. All it managed to do was make him look like a wet dog, with his long hair. He finally worked up the courage that had failed him a few seconds ago and made his way to the door. 

He opened the door, just as Steve was about to knock again, resulting in Bucky almost walking directly into Steve’s fist. 

“Oh,” Steve said, sheepishly. “Hey, Buck.” His golden hair was pushed backwards, and it was a good look on him. Bucky loved the way Steve had his hair cut before, that classic kid cut, but there was something intriguing about the pushed back look. That, and the short beard around his jawline. It was definitely working for him.

“Hey, Stevie,” Bucky replied, a grin rising on his face, despite his nerves. “Come on in.”

And it was that moment, when Steve passed him and walked into the house, suitcase in tow, that Bucky knew he was totally and entirely, fucked.


	2. Day 1 (Steve)

Steve shut his computer and groaned, burying his head in his hands, resting his elbows on the wooden desk in front of him. Because this was exactly what he needed right now. Everything was totally going according to plan. 

He had just gotten off a call with his boss, who was basically in shambles. They had been forced to shut down two days ago, along with their entire organization, which by the way, was the New York Rangers. And as a high ranking member of the Rangers marketing division, Steve had no idea what he was gonna do. What was he supposed to market if his team wasn’t even playing? He had gone through a list of ideas during his meetings today, and only two of them had been approved. They all knew they wouldn’t survive with just two ideas. They all knew there were gonna be layoffs. Even working for a billion dollar company, he had pretty much no job security. 

Of course, he couldn’t really complain. At least he had a job for the time being. A lot of his friends had been laid off the second the state went into lockdown, and a lot of others didn’t know when they would be going back. 

But now he was looking around his apartment, and he was thinking about how horrible the next two weeks were going to be. His apartment was a moderate size, he had enough space to walk around and work out if he wanted to, and he was using his spare room as an office, so he didn’t have to worry about his work life invading his personal life either.

The thing is, he had only moved into this apartment a few months ago, after an especially bad breakup with his girlfriend, and if he was being honest, he hated it. It felt like a showroom. He hadn’t really had anyone over, other than his best friend, Natasha, and everything still smelt like a furniture store. It was strange, that should be a good thing, but his apartment not having a specific smell was really irritating him. The couch wasn’t broken down and comfortable yet, and none of the plates had any noticeable chips in them. There had been no problems with the dishwasher, and the washer/dryer had yet to fail on him. It might be a living space, but it was in no way a home. 

Steve missed his old condo. The couch was brown leather but it was from Peggy’s old place so it was well worn, pretty much just a giant floating cloud by the time Steve had moved in. There was one plate that everyone could recognize because honestly it was barely holding itself together, and they should have thrown it out but they couldn’t because it was their favourite plate. 

Steve wondered if Peggy threw out the plate after he left. 

And then he scolded himself for wondering about that. Because he shouldn’t be wondering about that. He needed to move the fuck on and get over it. Peggy clearly had, if the picture of her and her new boyfriend, Daniel, that popped up in his feed three days ago meant anything. That picture had sent him into quite a spiral, considering Daniel was one of Peggy’s closest friends while they were together. Steve was sure she didn’t cheat on him, she wasn’t that type of person, but maybe that was the reason they broke up. Maybe she realized she didn’t really love Steve, she loved her best friend instead. It wouldn’t be the first time Steve had been hopelessly in love with someone who didn’t love him. 

And it wasn’t her fault for finding someone new anyway, it had been quite a few months and she had every right to have moved on. But Steve had always had trouble moving on from these things. Also, it was sort of difficult for Steve to find someone new when everything was shut down. 

He would love to get out of this showroom of an apartment. His mother had invited him to come stay with her, to get out of the city, but Steve knew he couldn’t do that. He didn’t want to be the reason she got sick, since she was already prone to getting deathly ill. So he was stuck in his tiny, stupid, perfect apartment, with it’s unscratched windows and working faucets. 

Just as he was about to get up, his phone began buzzing on the table. Desperately hoping it wasn’t a coworker, he picked it up, to find the contact photo of his mom on the screen. He clicked the answer button and held the phone up to his ear, getting up from his desk. He had been sitting for way too long. “Hey, Mom.”

“Stevie!” she shrieked into the phone, as if she had last spoken to him months ago and not just yesterday. That was his mom though. She was excited about everything, all the time. “I have good news!”

“Mhmm,” Steve replied, walking to his kitchen. He grabbed a glass and filled it up from the tap. “What is it?” He was honestly surprised that even his mom could find something to call good news at this point, but he was all ears for it if she could. 

“Winnie called me, and she said you can join Bucky at that house they rent out until this is all over! Isn’t that great?”

Steve was glad he hadn’t taken a sip of water yet, because he definitely would have spit it out. He set down the glass on the counter before he could drop it, and tried to work out what exactly was going on here.

“Stevie?” his mom asked. “You there?”

“Mhmm, yep,” he responded, turning around so he could lean against the counter and brush a hand back through his hair out of stress. “I’m here. I‘m just kinda tired.” 

“Oh, okay,” she said, and Steve could hear the confusion in her voice. It was times like these where Steve had to remind himself that his mom didn’t actually know anything about him and Bucky’s non existent relationship for the past few years. 

“So, umm…” Steve searched his brain for something to say that wouldn’t involve the fact he hadn’t spoken to Bucky, in person, in the last nine months. “Just, what do you mean?”

“Well…” his mom started, the excitement flooding back into her voice. Steve let her talk and nodded along (despite the fact she couldn’t see him anyway), trying to follow the conversation while also wondering what the fuck he was going to do. It wasn’t like he could refuse the offer, when he’s been complaining to his mom for the past two days about not wanting to be in the city, though it was never really about the city. It’s about the apartment. Everything’s about the fucking apartment. 

From what he picked up while only half paying attention, Bucky was escaping the city as well, and staying at the house that his parents normally rented out to another family, who had moved out a few weeks prior. Then, Bucky’s mom had mentioned that Steve was also trying to find somewhere else to stay, and Bucky had “practically jumped at the chance” to invite Steve to come stay with him. 

Steve highly doubted that last bit was true. After all, it was Bucky who had started avoiding Steve, starting in their first year of college. After a few months of late replies, and a few blow offs, Steve had gotten the message. He hadn’t pushed as hard to see Bucky, and now they mostly saw each other at family gatherings, or at parties hosted by mutual friends. And if he was being honest, it was horrible.

Bucky had been a rock for Steve his entire childhood, not just figuratively, but literally. Whenever Steve needed help, Bucky was there. Whenever Steve was being bullied, teased into a fight behind the school, Bucky showed up out of thin air to chase off Steve’s assailants. Whenever Steve was having girl problems, Bucky could tell him what to do, despite the fact they both knew Bucky was not one to be especially interested in girls. Whatever it was, Bucky was there. And Steve didn’t know what he did to deserve a friend like that. 

But Steve also didn’t know what he did to deserve being ghosted. They had just finished their senior year of high school, which from what Steve could tell, was the closest he and Bucky had ever been. They went to so many parties together, since Steve was finally well enough to handle more than one shot without puking, and they had three out of their four classes together. They were, as his mom would say, two peas in a pod, attached at the hip. 

And then they weren’t. Then they weren’t friends who texted every night. Then they weren’t friends who went out once a week and gave each other advice. Then they weren’t friends who co-planned gifts for their friends. In fact, they were barely friends. And Steve couldn’t figure out why. And it haunted him in the back of his mind every single time he saw Bucky at a birthday party, or heard his friends mention something he had done. 

“So anyway,” his mom finished, and Steve realized that once again, he hadn’t been paying attention again. “You can go up there today. Bucky will probably already be there, with that adorable little cat of his.”

“Right,” Steve said, attempting not to focus on the Bucky thing. “The cat.”

“It’s a cute cat, Steve.”

“It’s a demon.”

“Steven!” she gasped. “Don’t call it a demon!”

“It scratched me!” he argued. Even though Bucky had gotten the cat after senior year, Steve had met the cat once, when Bucky had left it at his mom’s house for the weekend, and Steve had gone over there to pick something up for his mom. The cat had not been very receptive to Steve’s apprehensive pets.

“Well maybe if you gave it a chance instead of instantly assuming it was evil-”

“Okay, okay,” he cut her off, not needing to get into this argument again. “It’s a nice cat.”

“Thank you,” she replies, as if it was a compliment to her and not the cat. “I have to go, but you should head over there today. I’m sure Bucky is already there.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, though he quickly realizes his mistake, sighing. “Yeah, totally,” he says more enthusiastically to play it off. “I’ll get down there today. Just gotta pack.”

“Okay,” his mom replies. “I’ll leave you to pack. Bye, Stevie.”

“Bye, Mom.” There’s a little click from his phone as he hears his mom hang up on her end. 

Steve had no idea what he was gonna do. Best case scenario, him and Bucky barely speak for two weeks and he gets to come back to his shitty apartment and he gets to continue living his miserable life without Bucky Barnes in it forever. 

Worst case scenario, Bucky brings up exactly why they aren’t friends anymore. And it’s something worse than Steve had ever imagined himself doing. Because for all he knows, it could be the worst thing anyone has ever done to Bucky Barnes. And that might really be the end of him. 

He drops himself on the couch and buries his head in his hands, glass of water forgotten on the kitchen counter. Because neither of those were good scenarios. The best case scenario was still a bad option. He didn’t want to lose Bucky for the rest of his life, and all this thinking was starting to make him believe he already had. That there was no coming back from whatever he had done all those years ago. 

Like the predictable person he was, he did the same thing he always did when he was in crisis. Call Natasha. 

The phone rang a few times before she picked up. “Hey, Steve. What’s up?”

“Heyyyy, Nat,” he replies, half to let her know what the mood of this phone call is going to be and half to stall. 

Steve could practically hear her facial expression change. He was starting to wonder if he had a sixth sense for that type of stuff. “What happened?”

“I think I might be extremely fucked.”

“Elaborate.”

So Steve ended up telling her the whole story, which really just was a retelling of the phone call with his mom. Natasha stayed silent for most of it, giving him a few  _ mhmms _ here and there to let him know she was still listening. “And that’s when I called you,” Steve ended, waiting for an actual response. 

There was a clear pause before Natasha said anything. “You’re telling me Bucky willingly invited you to come stay with him?”

“That’s what you’re concerned about?” Steve asked, in a bit of disbelief. “Nat, what am I gonna do?”

“I just wanted to make sure no one’s holding a gun to his head,” she defended. 

“Nat,” Steve groaned, tossing his body backwards until it hit the back of the couch. It stung a little, considering the couch was leather, and was still as hard as it had been when he had bought it. 

“Fine,” she said, exasperated with Steve already. It was a common emotion of hers. “When was the last time you talked to him?”

“Like, nine months ago at least. It was at his mom’s birthday party.”

“God, Steve,” she sighed into the phone, and Steve could hear two thumps, probably her crossing her feet on her coffee table. “How did you let it get this bad?”

“I don’t even know, Nat,” he replied, and he felt his mouth turn into one of those small sad smiles, the type everyone got when they were thinking about the past.

“Okay, okay, don’t get all depressed on me, I was just wondering.” 

He didn’t respond, only because he didn’t know what to say.

“When do you have to be up there?” 

“Gotta pack all my shit and then get there today,” he answered blandly, standing back up to get his neglected glass of water. “My mom said he’s leaving pretty soon.”

“Hey, don’t get like that,” Natasha said. “Maybe this is a good thing.”

“How on earth is this a good thing? The dude won’t even talk to me. He doesn’t want to. Doesn’t matter what I do.”

“And what exactly have you done, Steve?”

“I…” he trailed off, because she was right. He really  _ hadn’t _ done anything. 

“There you go,” Natasha said, as if he was a toddler taking his first steps. “You’re getting it now.”

Steve groaned into the phone. “It’s too late to do anything, Nat. It’s been like six fucking years since we’ve been anything more than acquaintances.”

“Is it too late though, Steve? Is it?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Stop being so fucking cryptic!”

“Fine. Need me to spell it out for you? This is your chance, Steven. Your chance to fix your friendship with Bucky, and stop making it so fucking awkward for the rest of us. And your chance to pull yourself out of whatever slump Peggy put you in where you only talk to me.”

“Hey!” he gasped. “I have other friends!”

“Mhmm,” she played along. Of course, they both knew it was all in good fun, but still. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Fine, I have to pack.”

“Okay, have fun, don’t fuck it up even more!” she yelled into the phone, before hanging up so that Steve couldn’t get the last word. It was precisely why Steve didn’t like being on the phone with her. 

So Steve set to packing. 

\-----------------

Packing for two weeks turned out to be a much harder task than Steve had anticipated. He had no idea what things were actually at the house, and even though he probably could’ve just called Bucky to ask, he decided against it. Why, you may ask? Because he was a huge chicken. 

He ended up packing a stack of disposable plates and cutlery, as well as some laundry detergent, along with his suitcase of clothes. It only took him thirty minutes to pack his actual belongings though, which was a testament to how much of his stuff he actually cared about. He brought his work bag, with his computer and paper files with him as well. After pulling the zipper around with some difficulty, he was ready to go. 

As he made his way to the door, he took one last look at the apartment. He definitely wouldn’t miss it. It definitely wouldn’t miss him. 

He got into his car, which had been sitting in the garage, and drove away, in the direction of the address his mom had texted him. He turned on the radio in an attempt to drown out his apprehension, and let himself get lost in the music, until he was pulling up to the asphalt driveway of the suburban house. He could see Bucky’s car already parked, it was the same one he had had in high school. The same car where Steve had had his first cigarette and choked immediately. He had never tried them again, but it was still a fun memory nonetheless. 

With a suitcase in his hand, the other bags still in the trunk of his car, Steve walked the stone path to the door. 

He knocked a few times on the door. No answer. He waited a minute. Bucky was probably in the washroom or something. He didn’t need to overthink this. 

After a minute, Steve knocked again. Maybe Bucky just didn’t hear it the first time. But Bucky still took a while and without the music to distract him, Steve was definitely beginning to overthink this. Maybe Bucky was questioning whether to let him in at all. He doubted Bucky even wanted him here. 

But when he raised his hand a final time to knock, the door swung open and away from his hand. And there was Bucky. Long hair slightly messy in the way Steve had remembered it. When Steve realized his hand was still out in front of him, he pulled it back. “Oh. Hey, Buck.”

A grin rose on Bucky’s face, which was way more comforting to Steve than Bucky could ever realize. “Hey, Stevie. Come on in.” 


End file.
